


Scenes from the Zadash Winter Market

by rosiep8801



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caduceus is wholesome, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Post-Eiselcross, Wintertime Shenanigans, a light serving of Widobrave angst, holiday themed, throw in some Found Family feels just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:13:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosiep8801/pseuds/rosiep8801
Summary: Set in the near future after leaving Eiselcross, the Nein can finally catch their breath for a moment to enjoy spending some time in Zadash, exploring the winter market there and also some of the new relationships they're just starting to figure out.Each chapter follows a different couple/character as they figure out their new dynamics now that they have some time to relax.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Caduceus Clay & The Mighty Nein, Fjord/Jester Lavorre, Nott | Veth Brenatto/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 18
Kudos: 119





	1. Fjord and Jester

The air was crisp with the chill of winter and smelled of sweet apples and spiced cider. Jester inhaled deeply, wanting to live in that scent. It was nothing like winter in Nicodranas, which was usually damp and humid, if a few degree cooler than the rest of the year. This was electric with ice and wine and a thousand thousand kinds of food being cooked, a heady rush of energy and life that Jester found endlessly invigorating.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The low notes of Fjord’s voice came from right beside her. She wanted to say she hadn’t noticed his approach, but she had. She always noticed him.

She looked back at the city of Zadash, the way snow freckled the cobblestone roads and lights had been strung up on the bustling streets that made the ice glitter. She knew what Fjord meant.

“Yeah,” she said softly, and inhaled again, wishing she could catalogue every aspect of that moment, commit it to memory like Caleb could. “You know what I smell?” She asked, turning in a small circle as she spoke, staring up at the mix of torch and arcane light that lit the winter market.

Fjord took a deep breath like she had, and cocked his head in contemplation. “Honestly, I feel like I’m smelling a lot of things right now.”

She smiled and quirked her eyebrow playfully. “I smell pastries.” She started backing up toward the crowd. “And I’m going to go get some. Are you coming with me?”

“What about the others?” Fjord asked with gentle fondness, eyes on her. Only her.

She looked past him to the rest of the group. They all still stood off to the side of the street, a mishmash of colors and voices. Beau and Caleb were bickering over something, and Jester could hear her acerbic tone even from where she stood, along with the low murmur of Caleb’s replies. The others appeared to be staying out of it, which was usually for the best.

“Hey, guys!” She shouted to them. As one, they all turned to look at her. Caduceus smiled his big, happy smile and raised a hand in wave. “I’m going to get pastries! Fjord is coming with me.”

“Okay!” Beau called back, holding a thumbs up. “We’ll find you later!”

Jester raised an eyebrow at Fjord.

He walked up beside her and gave a slight bow, gesturing grandly toward the market. “Then let’s go, shall we?”

She grinned and took off, flitting through and around groups of people, staring wide-eyed at the booths and everything that was for sale. Handcrafted gifts, sparkling ornaments, soaps, drinks, sausages—it was like anything she could have wished for would be there if she only looked hard enough.

She could feel Fjord’s presence at her back. She could hear it too, because he wasn’t quite as good at making his way through the crowds as she was. Every now and then she heard a _thud_ and a muttered apology in a familiar voice, but she always knew that if she turned around he’d still be there, only a couple of steps behind.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Fjord asked as she paused, pushing up on her tip-toes to see over heads in the crowd. “Pastries, yes. But do you know anything they have here?”

“No,” she said. “But if I knew what they had here, that would be boring. I want to find something new.”

“I think this is all pretty new,” he said, shuffling to the side to let a couple pass by him. They were human and at least a full head shorter than Fjord was, carrying small plates of food as they wove around them. Fjord kind of stood out, she noticed. There weren’t all that many people taller than he was here.

“Oh,” he tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the right, where someone was cradling a steaming cone of dough in their hands. “Is that new enough for you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”

Jester cocked her head. “Do you think it’s sweet?” She squinted hard. It looked like it had sugar on it, but from this distance it was hard to tell.

He reached down and grabbed her hand, shooting her one of those wicked, romantic, so-hot-she-metled kind of smiles. “Only one way to find out.”

She couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her, and it took a moment to find words again. “Okay,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze.

He took off this time, with her in tow behind him. She burst out laughing though, because he wasn’t any better at making his way through a crowd with her along for the ride. In fact, he was markedly worse at it, accidentally running into more than one person as he barreled his way through the crowd, a string of rushed apologies and “excuse me’s” trailing them. At least Jester had far less to worry about, since he was taking down anyone in their way before she got there.

“What?” He said to her as they got closer to the person and their mystery dessert. “Why are you laughing? Is it my incredible display of dexterity?”

She was still laughing. “You’re just _mowing_ them all down, Fjord.”

“I am simply making my way through a crowd the best way I know how,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

“I know,” she said, and went up on her tip-toes again, stretching up until she could press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s very kind of you do that for me, Fjord.”

“Oh, well, you know…” He flushed, all his honeyed words stopped in their tracks. She liked that she could do that to him, especially after spending so much time wondering if he cared for her that way at all. Mostly, she just liked to see Fjord get flustered because it was cute, though. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” she said softly.

He flushed even brighter than before, and, fearing he’d lock up the way he could when things got _too_ real and _too_ tender, Jester tugged at his hand, moving them to approach the person with the mystery dessert.

“Hi!” She said, waving as she approached. A half-elven woman with short brown hair flicked her eyes to Jester, hand raised and mouth open to take a bite. “What is that? Where did you get it? It looks _really_ good.”

The woman’s hand dropped, gaze pinging between Jester and Fjord before focusing in on Jester. “It’s a chimney cake. I got it over there.” She pointed behind her.

“Great! Thanks,” Jester started off in the direction the woman had pointed before backpedaling hard and crouching so she was eye-level with the dessert. “What’s on it?” She asked. It looked like sugar—and cinnamon?

The woman had gone to take a bite in the split second of peace she’d had before Jester returned, and now lowered her hand agin. “Cinnamon sugar,” she said, sounding exasperated.

Jester just leaned back and flashed her a smile. “Cinnamon is my favorite,” she said. “You know, it’s not as common to see it in pastries here as it is in Nicodranas. It’s on _everything_ there. We’re kind of known for it.”

The woman cast her gaze around the market. “Well, there’s all kinds of people making food here. Maybe someone went there and was inspired.”

“Maybe so,” she said. “Thanks again!”

She actually left this time, walking away at a more leisurely pace, still holding Fjord’s hand. She thought she heard the woman mutter, “…you’re welcome?” as she left.

“Is there anything you want to find while we’re here, Fjord?” She asked, glancing up at him, watching the way the lights danced across his face and lit up his eyes. _Gods_ but he was beautiful.

He shrugged and pulled her in closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Easy as breathing, Jester slipped her arm around his waist, snuggling in closer. “Nothing in particular,” he said. “I’m just glad we’re here to enjoy the festivities. Barren Eve is always such a chucklefest, you know. This is a nice change of pace.”

She knew about Barren Eve, the winter solstice, where people mourned those lost in war, but she had never really observed it. Whether it was because she was hidden away in the Chateau or because she’d lived in her own little world—and it was not a world made for solemnity like that—she wasn’t certain, but she couldn’t say she was upset she’d missed out on it before or that they would be missing it again. They were passing through Zadash before the solstice, finally taking some time for themselves, and had luckily come into town as the winter markets sprung up. Jester’d had no idea something like this even _existed_ here, full of hustle-and-bustle and lights and sounds and song.

“It really is,” she said. She leaned her head against his shoulder and let out a sigh. It had been a hard few months, harder than they normally were. After leaving Eiselcross, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to look at winter themed decor the same way—something about her time there just seemed to sour her toward it—but it surprised her how much she _liked_ this market. She was _incredibly_ tired of the cold, but even still, all these people and all this energy had her feeling better than she had in months.

It didn’t hurt to have a very handsome half-orc hanging off her arm, either.

“Are you all right?” Fjord asked. His thumb stroked her shoulder in an offhand, second-nature kind of way.

“Entirely? I don’t know. But I feel good right now, here with you.” She glanced up at him, still shocked every time she said something like that and saw the hint of a smile on his face or that look of deep affection enter his eyes. For so long, she worried she’d caused things to go wrong between them. It was a wonder every time she remembered that she hadn’t.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Come on. Let’s go take a look at that dessert,” he said, nodding to the stand up ahead.

She knew from the crinkle at the corner of his eyes and the tense press of his fingers against her shoulder that he was more worried than he was letting on. That was fair enough, she supposed. If she were in his shoes, she’d probably be worried too. But there would be time for all of that later, when they were somewhere quieter. For right now, she was content to enjoy the moment for what it was—bright and sparkling and warm. It was a nice escape from what the last few months had been, and it seemed Fjord was just as willing to let sleeping dogs lie for now as she was.

The stand they had been directed to was crowded, a long line of prospective customers curling around it in what could barely be considered a line. There seemed to be two streams of people coming at it from different directions, but it was almost impossible to differentiate them from the people just walking or talking in the middle of the market. But in the gaps between people, Jester could crouch and get a look at the cakes, little dough cones on wooden forms, being turned overtop a fire and sparkling with melted sugar, and she thought she might be drooling just a little bit.

“Oh _gods,”_ she said, pointing. “Do you see that? How did I not know these existed before?”

“Wow, that is really— _oof,”_ Fjord began, but Jester kept tight hold of his hand as she darted toward where she thought the line was, pulling him with her as she tried to get as close to the slowly baking treats as she could.

She rose up on her toes again, wishing she was a few inches taller. Why was everyone so _tall?_ Did they know how lucky they were to be able to see everything so easily? _Ugh_ , she wished she had boots with heels or something—

“Here,” Fjord said, dropping her hand and moving in front of her. His hands reached out behind him toward her. “Want to get a better view?”

She barely managed to bite her tongue on the _this is already a better view_ waiting to come out, and put her hands on his shoulders before jumping up on his back.

His arms wrapped around her thighs and boosted her up higher and for just a second she forgot how excited she was about the chimney cakes. There was nothing like trying some new sweet or pastry that looked just _delectable,_ but the feeling of Fjord pressed up against her, his arms on her thighs was…that was pretty distracting. She was glad he couldn’t see her face, because she could feel how hot it was and had to fight the urge to bury it in his shoulder so no one would see.

“How’s it looking up there?” He asked, as if he couldn’t see perfectly well himself, tall as he was.

“It—they—it’s _really_ good,” she stuttered, clearing her throat before trying again. “Look at the cinnamon! And they’re like _cones,_ Fjord, they can put things _in them_.”

“They do look pretty good,” he said. “What do you think you’re going to get?”

“I mean you have to try it on it’s own, right? It’s important to know what the cakes taste like before you start putting more things in it.”

“Is that an official rule for a pastry connoisseur?”

“Yes,” Jester said immediately. “It’s in the rulebook that we all carry around with us.”

“That’s funny, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like that on you. Where do you keep it?”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, it’s pretty secret. Only important people get them, so I can’t tell you.”

He nodded sagely “I understand. Can’t take the chance some cretin like me could find it. It would sully the magic.”

“You’re only a cretin if you don’t like pastries, Fjord—wait,” she stared down at him. “Do you _not_ _like pastries?”_

“I don’t _dislike_ them,” he said, his voice rising a bit at the end like he knew this was important. “But I certainly wouldn’t consider myself a connoisseur.”

She rested her chin on the top of his head. “Really I keep it hidden so Caleb never gets it. He’s the real cretin.”

“I mean, who asks for a _salad_ in a Hero’s Feast?”

“ _Exactly._ You can have anything you want at the drop of a hat and you ask for a _salad?”_

“To be fair,” Fjord said, “we pretty much get anything we want in the Tower now. So he’s…branching out?”

“Maybe,” Jester said. “He’s getting there. The pies were a good start.”

The line moved ahead of them and Fjord continued on, bouncing her up a bit if she started to fall. She wrapped her arms securely over his shoulders, using the opportunity to crane her head around the booths around them. It was mostly foods over here, desserts like little doughnuts and piles of hard candies and chocolate and fudge, and on the far end were entree foods, sausages and other meats cooking out in the open, their smokiness drifting into the air, making the whole place smell like sweet burning wood and biting cold.

“Who knew there was so much here?” She muttered to herself. Sometimes, even after everything, she was suddenly rocked by the fact that there were so many things she had yet to experience. On the good days, she could convince herself she was nothing but happy to be experiencing them now, but more often than not she was dogged by the feeling that she should have already experienced more. That she shouldn’t be so surprised and wondered and taken in by something as simple as a winter market. It was a normal, commonplace occurrence—for other people. But Jester had never seen anything like this, had never seen so _much_ of a gaudy, busy, energetic exhalation of life in one place.

“To be honest, I didn’t really know about this either,” Fjord said. “I mean, Port Damali was always a busy place and markets there especially so, but…I don’t know. This is different.”

“It’s not permanent,” Jester said, dropping her chin back on his head. “It’s only here for a few weeks and everyone has to come while it lasts. That’s pretty special. I see how people could make a habit of doing this.”

Fjord inhaled deeply. “Yes, if only for the food. _Fuck,_ it smells good over here.”

“Well,” a crackling, sharp voice said beside them. “Then maybe you should take a break and go get something before your brittle twig bones snap. You could use the protein, after all.”

Fjord noticeably jumped at Veth’s sudden appearance, his grip slipping on one of Jester’s leg. He scrambled to keep a hold of her, but she whispered, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” to him and let herself drop back to the ground.

Veth was all dressed up in her winter clothes, antlers slightly askew. Her arms were crossed over her chest, tight, closed off, and even though she was insulting Fjord she wasn’t looking at him. She didn’t really seem to be looking at anything in particular.

“Veth!” Fjord said, immediately shifting gears. “How lovely it is to see you. And thank you, I know I look downright dashing tonight, I’m glad you noticed.”

“You look the same as you always have, which isn’t really that noticeable—”

“—outfit just really underlines my _strength_ —”

“—I mean, I can barley tell you apart from Pumat, you look _so much_ like brothers—”

“Hey, hey!” Jester interrupted. “Veth, hello, hi, did—was there—what’s up?” Jester struggled to find the right thing to say, something supportive but also just…a _little_ …bit dis _missive_ , because as much as she loved Veth—and she _loved_ Veth—she had also really been enjoying the feel of Fjord’s body against hers and that was gone now so who really could blame her for being _slightly_ irritable about it?

“Oh, I was just…wandering around. Wondering what you guys were doing. Thought I’d…check in.” Veth’s arms dropped, gloved fingers picking at her pink skirt, playing with some of the embellishments. She still wasn’t meeting Jester’s eyes.

One of Jester’s favorite things about Veth was that she was terrible liar. “Hey, Fjord,” she said, turning back to him. “How about Veth and I hold the place in line for a second and you go get…something to eat?”

Fjord’s eyes flicked from Veth to Jester and back again before he nodded. “I’ll be right back,” he said with a soft understanding, the tips of his fingers lingering on her arm before he disappeared back into the crowd.

With a huff, Jester turned to face Veth, hand on hips. “Tell me what’s really going on.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Veth said, but she said it too quickly.

“Yes, there is. Tell me.”

“Jester…” Veth sighed and trailed off. She was starting somewhere past Jester, looking for all the world like she was hundreds of miles away from this moment. “Nothing’s going on. I was just walking and I saw you guys, thought I’d drop in. Scare Fjord. You know. Who would I be if I didn’t take a golden opportunity like that.”

Jester knew there was something wrong, she even thought she could name a few good guesses about what it was. But if Veth wasn’t ready to have a conversation like that, Jester wasn’t going to force her to. “You have _got_ to stop scaring Fjord. What if _I_ was the one who fell?”

“Well, you should have been carrying _him_ in the first place, which would have made the whole thing that much funnier.” Veth smiled, just a little bit, and it was enough of a real smile. “What are you in line for here, anyway? Is this even a line? It’s moving _so. Fucking. Slowly.”_

Jester blew out a breath, her bangs floating out of her face in the gust. “I know. I think everyone wants them. They’re these sugary cones of dough and they look delicious and I’m going to get _cinnamon_ on mine and, yeah, it’s going to be pretty great.” She took on step forward, moving with the line.

Veth did as well. “That sounds good.” She stared off to the right, away from Jester, toward something she couldn’t see.

Though, to be fair, Jester wasn’t trying to see it. Whatever was haunting Veth was clearly something she would rather remain private, and Jester would respect that.“Do you also want to go sneak up on the others, just to see what happens?”

She shrugged, then narrowed her eyes. “Maybe Beau. That bitch wouldn’t even see me coming.”

“She will punch you in the face, Veth.”

“Worth it.”

Jester tipped her head to the side. “Your funeral.”

“So. How’s Fjordy-boy?” Veth said. They took another step forward.

Jester struggled to keep the smile off her face, but it was a losing battle. “It’s really good, Veth. It’s just been…it’s been really good.”

“And he’s been treating you right? Not acting like a dickbutt in any way?”

Jester shook her head, raising her clasped hands to her chest absentmindedly. “No, Veth. I mean it when I say it’s been great. It’s not been long, you know, but, I don’t know. It feels like we _get_ each other, I guess? Do you know what I mean?”

Veth released a breath, long and deep and uncertain. “Yeah. I do, Jessie.” Veth glanced to the side and pointed. “And look, here comes your valiant not-cowboy. I’m going to go sneak up on Beau.”

“Veth,” Jester said, serious this time. “You _do not_ want to know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of one of Beau’s punches. Trust me, I know.”

Veth shrugged. “Eh, I shot her in the ass once, if she hits me that’s probably just karma.”

“I thought you said that was a fair race,” Jester said.

Veth winked at her. “It sure was, baby.”

Between one moment and then next, Veth had vanished from sight just as Fjord pushed his way back through the crowd and into the line. “I didn’t actually get anything,” he said.

“Is it because you weren’t hungry or because there were too many options and you couldn’t decide?”

“Yeah, no, I spent a _lot_ of time trying to figure out what I wanted and then I just gave up, that’s basically it.”

Jester smiled and threaded her arm through his, her other hand balanced on his forearm. “We’ll get some real food after this if you’re hungry. We’ll figure out what you want.”

Gently, he placed his other hand over hers. “All right,” he said, his voice going all deep and rumbly in a way that set nervous butterflies to fluttering in her belly.

“ _Okay_ ,” she said, the word pinched and high. “That’s great.”

The line still took forever, but Jester was content to stay there as long as it took, with Fjord’s warm, solid presence at her side. They chatted absently about everything and nothing and she wondered if this was something like a _date._ It wasn’t quite how she had imagined it, but then she couldn’t really name a romance heroine from any of the books she’d read who had ever gone on a _date_ , so what did she know? Still, it felt small and normal and nice and when she finally got her cone of deliciousness, Fjord even offered to pay even though he didn’t have to and she wouldn’t have asked him to.

But once she had the cone in her hands, steaming into the air, smelling of melted sugar and sweet cinnamon, she barely even noticed Fjord slipping the baker a coin. She peeled off part of it with gloveless fingers—Zadash was nothing compared to Eiselcross—and just about melted when she tried it, eyes falling closed even in the midst of pedestrian traffic. Fjord, thankfully, used the same tactic here he had before and took up just enough space to make sure she wouldn’t get hit by people walking past.

“It’s good?” Fjord asked, his lips quirked up in an amused smile.

“ _So. Good,”_ Jester said, leaning hard against him for support after being absolutely annihilated by her new dessert.

“I’m glad,” Fjord said, accepting her weight, arm going around her shoulders to accommodate the position.

“Oh,” she took another quick bite and then handed her cone off the Fjord, who stared down at her in gentle bewilderment as she licked the cinnamon and sugar of her fingers quickly before she took the haversack off her shoulders. “Before I forget.”

“Before you forget what?” He asked, staring at the dough cone in his hand like it was entirely foreign to him. To be fair, it was rare that she let someone else hold her pastries for her, so she could understand that reaction.

“This,” she said, pulling a piece of paper out of the bag.

She’d borrowed one piece of Caleb’s special paper for this piece, because she’d needed a slightly bigger canvas that what she had in her sketchbook and, well, maybe she wanted this one to be a little more special anyway.

She held the paper out to him. “I, um, I drew this a little while ago. I was trying to find a good time to give it to you and now seems like a good one.”

Fjord gingerly touched the drawing, trading the cone back for it. He stared at rapturously, his steps slowing until Jester guided them out of the main walking paths to a standing table not far away. “Jester,” he breathed. “This is…gorgeous. Really.”

It should be—she’d worked on it for a long time. It was the docks of the Open Quay in Nicodranas, the sky colored in soft pastels of sunset. In the forefront was their new, big boat, the Nein Heroez. Orly stood on the docks, making his way to greet the wharf master while the rest of the crew—Gallon and Shelda and the others—played a prank on Marius on the deck. Next to the Nein Heroezin the dock was the Balleater, a bit shaken and shambled, the corner of the intricately drawn name—and testicle-like first letter—peeked out in front of the Nein Heroez. And behind that, small and distant, Jester had drawn in what she could remember of the Mistake. The water of the Quay glimmered in the setting sun, and off to the side were the mixed oranges and burgundies and blues and greens of Nicodranas and all the life that the city held. It was a complicated piece and she loved it, even though it wasn’t perfect.

“Thank you,” Fjord said. Whenever he said that to her, when she’d done something he really appreciated, no matter how small, there was a little catch in his voice. It was more noticeable this time than it normally was.

“I know you don’t really want to go for the whole _sea_ vibe if we ever get back to the Xhorhaus,” she said, feeling a lot of anxious energy as he just kept staring at it. “But, you know, I was kind of inspired now that we have a new ship and everything and I thought it would just be like, a nice little pretty thing for you to have—”

She was shocked into speechlessness when Fjord pulled her into a hug. She was equally as shocked by the strength of the embrace, but she returned it for all she was worth even as her heart broke just the tiniest bit, sensing what it was that brought out this emotion in Fjord and that hitch in his voice when he thanked her. She didn’t have the first idea what it was like to grow up in a place like he had, with the people he had, or the things that does to a person. But she could _feel_ it, here, in this moment, and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go.

“It’s perfect,” he said, his warm breath tickling her ear as he spoke. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling bashful for some reason. “It…it was nothing, I just wanted to make you something.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see her face. His eyes were burning with _something_ , some deep, intense _thing_ that lit a match inside of her, warmed her and made her burn. “It’s not nothing, Jester. It’s _definitely_ not nothing.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she said. Her words were quiet because he leaned in again, resting his forehead against hers.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered like a prayer, to her, to the gods, she didn’t know.

She curled her fingers against his cheek, nails scraping the scruff of his beard. “So are you.”

She knew that neither of them were perfect. But that moment was, and that was more than enough to suffice.

He didn’t answer with words—he simply closed the space between them and kissed her, never mind the cold or the crowds or the fresh flurry of snow falling from the sky that Jester could barely even feel. It was the first time in a long time she’d felt completely comfortable in the cold again, and she thought, _Shit. If this is what winter in Zadash is like, I could really get used to it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, welcome to my first foray back into posting fanfic in about...8-9 years (*it's been a while*). I hope you enjoyed! The rest of the chapters will be up as soon as I get them done, which I sure hope will be soon (I'm never a fan of posting things like this in pieces, but I wanted to get the ball rolling because oh boy that holiday time frame is closing, so here we are).


	2. Veth and Caleb

It was snowing a-fucking-gain.

Veth had never really minded the snow. It was a thing that came and went and came again in Felderwin. It was fun when she was a kid and pain in the ass for the farmers usually, but she’d never wasted a great deal of her life thinking about it, considering it, or _fucking hating_ it. She was really starting to feel that last one, though.

 _It’s not the snow’s fault_ , she reminded herself. It was her fault, just like most things had always been her fault. It didn’t matter who you asked—her parents, her brothers, her peers, the whole town—Veth was just an odd one and she stood out and that meant things were just…her fault. And this one thing that was bothering her…that was _undeniably_ her fault and her’s alone.

Walking around in this fucking winter market wasn’t helping. Talking to Jessie was a non-starter—Veth couldn’t verbalize what she was feeling to herself, why did she think she’d be able to confess to Jester?—she couldn’t even _find_ Beau to sneak up on her, she didn’t want to see the look in Caduceus’s eyes if she said what she wanted to and _fuck no_ she _could not_ talk to Caleb.

She realized she _may_ have been avoiding him for some time now. Not everyday, not when the rest of the group was there. That was safe. But being alone with him? Having conversations by themselves like they used to when she was still Nott and he was still a smelly wizard boy? It wasn’t like that anymore, it couldn’t be.

And it was driving her up the fucking _wall._

 _I should get something for Luc,_ she thought to distract herself. There was plenty of stuff here, and plenty that would appeal to him. If she got something for Luc, should she get something for Yeza, too? Would it be weird if she didn’t? They were just gifts, but it had been a while since she’d gotten Yeza a gift specifically and he hadn’t really liked the overalls she got him before, even though she knew that he’d wear them if she were there and wanted him to. _Was that weird too?_ Should it be like that between them?

Veth sighed. She was doing this a lot, asking inane questions of herself even though she didn’t have a single answer for them. Well, maybe they weren’t inane questions, but she wished they could be. The world had been reinvented for her over the last few years, and she’d had no idea the problem she couldn’t solve would be how to deconstruct this new life in order to find the one she’d had before.

She shook her head, clearing it, and kept walking. The slap of cold air on her cheeks helped her focus on the here and now. On the market.

After Beau and Caleb finished their little spat—honestly she didn’t really bother to listen to them anymore, they were so rote—Beau and Yasha had made hasty excuses and headed off into the market on their own. Veth had a pretty good idea of what was going on there and definitely had some interest in fucking with them, but when she looked back at the group and saw only Caleb and Caduceus, that’s when she really felt uneasy. Caduceus had this _look_ in his eyes. It was the one that said, “my friends are about to learn a valuable lesson.” She wasn’t half as insightful as he was, but even she could tell he was about to excuse himself, give her and Caleb some time on their own.

She liked to think she hadn’t actively been avoiding Caleb, but given her immediate panic at the thought of being alone with him, she had to admit it was a possibility.

She’d muttered her own hasty excuses—“I’m going to look for toys for Luc, I’ll be back”—and run off into the crowd, not really sure where she was going but just as sure that she didn’t want to be _there._

It was getting harder to deal with. There had been a time, not long after everyone had learned the truth about her, where things had barely changed. But after saving Yeza, after changing her back into a halfling, everything was a whole new level of strange and difficult and complicated.

 _You’re crazy,_ she thought to herself as she perused different market stalls, looking for something Luc might like. Maybe new crossbow bolts? Okay, maybe not that or she’d give Yeza a nervous breakdown. _You’re casting shadows to torment yourself. Let it go,_ please _let it go._

She didn’t know exactly when her “crush” on Caleb had turned into something stronger. Maybe it was just proximity—they were together _all the time_. It was hard to avoid feelings in conditions like that, right? He _was_ handsome, she’d always thought that. But…she hadn’t always been pretty. Maybe that’s what had changed. What had felt like a statistical impossibility then no longer did now. It was, if nothing else, _possible_ that he could reciprocate—

But she was married. She had a child. Before she could be anything else, she was a wife and a mother. That’s how life had to be.

The clomping of her boots on far away cobblestone roads dusted with snow seemed to argue against her.

Veth was walking past a table of toys when she heard the winding of clockwork. She hadn’t always been so attuned to the sound, but now it was something that made her perk up and take notice. She wandered closer to where she’d heard the sound, squinting a little in the dim light. She was used to having better eyesight and the lack of it, even in mundane instances like this, was off-putting at best and aggravating at worst. She had to weave around people, sneaking more than she was walking. That was another thing she had become accustomed to. And in a crowd like this, it wasn’t hard to do when you were almost half the height of most everyone else.

Of course, the tables weren’t exactly halfling friendly. When she approached the booth, she had a great time seeing just over the edge because her nose lined up with the height of the table. She sighed agin. She could levitate if she wanted to be particularly difficult about this. It might be funny to freak some people out like that—

“Oh,” a familiar voice said.

Veth looked up at the man beside her. “Oh,” she repeated, silently cussing out Caduceus wherever he was. “Caleb. I didn’t see you there.”

He pushed back loose strands of red hair that had fallen out of his tie. He wasn’t looking right at her so much as was looking at her right shoulder. “I didn’t see you either.”

“It’s those…rogueing skills, you know,” she heard herself saying. “They’re sharp. Like a dagger.”

 _Sharp. Like a dagger._ The last piece of her dignity shriveled up and died, she felt it go.

“Hello!” The merchant at the booth, a portly human man wrapped up entirely in winter clothes apart from his unfortunate bald spot, said in greeting. “Do you two need any help?”

“I think we’re just looking right now,” Caleb said automatically, but with a polite firmness that would have been impossible for him only a scant few months ago. She remembered what the old him would have done, hidden his face in his scarf like a turtle hiding away and walked off quickly, hoping he wasn’t remembered. In comparison, he seemed so fearless now. “Unless, you need help, Veth?”

Veth stared at the wood of the table again. She…she definitely needed help but also didn’t really want to ask for it. There was no good way to ask if they could _please_ provide a step stool. Also _ugh_ a step stool. She didn’t want one of those.

“Nope,” she said. “Nope, I’m good.”

From her components pouch, she pulled out a small leather loop and twirled it around her finger while she muttered the arcane words she’d learned—this was a spell she’d taught to herself, without Caleb’s help—and levitated up so she could see the table, glowering toward the merchant.

“Oh!” He exclaimed when he saw her floating there. “Well, would you look at that?”

“Well, I _can_ now that I can see something,” Veth said.

The merchant tapped his knuckles against the wood of the table. “This is the booth we were given. It’s tall, I know, but some of them are.” He shrugged. “We take what we can get.”

“Likely story,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest again. She was so irritable today. All of this was designed to make her as irritable as possible—the snow, the table, the merchant, and Caleb. Standing there with his perfect jawline and gorgeous long hair and well-made leather jacket that was close enough to his original that sometimes it rocked her right back to the beginning, to that little jail cell they’d shared when they were both nobodies with fake names and tongues coated in lies. Back when it was a simple thing to sleep curled up against him and hold his hand and read over his shoulder and sit in his lap—

“These are nice,” Caleb said to her, the words soft and quiet, not for the merchant’s ears. He picked up one of the clockwork wind-up toys laid out on a table, this one a frog. “This could be a good present for Luc. Something he can wind up and run after, maybe?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about that,” she said. She took the frog from him and wound up the toy a little before placing it on the table where they could watch it move. “How’d you end up here?” She asked while they watched the toy jump its way across their end of the booth.

“Oh, I was looking for some books and got a little turned around, I think. They had some nice journals, but nothing else of much interest that I could find,” he said, waving a finger around the section of the market.

“Did you lose Mr. Clay on the way here?” She asked. She moved the frog to the side and picked up a ladybug, winding it up for a try.

“No, he had some errands of his own to attend to, or so he said,” Caleb shook his head. “I think perhaps…he may have wanted a moment for himself? I’m sure there are a number of gifts he could be looking for here, for his family. He is usually private about those things.” Caleb didn’t exactly sound _troubled_ by this, but there was a heaviness to his tone that hadn’t been there before. There usually was when he spoke about someone’s family.

“That’s true,” Veth said. She still remembered the look in his eyes, though. She’d bet he was buying gifts for his family, but that didn’t make her any less suspicious about him having ulterior motives.

Wanting to change the subject, Veth cleared her throat and called out to the merchant. “Hey, do you have any more of these that are insects or something?”

“Insects?” The merchant repeated. “Eh, some but not many. They’re not big sellers. People don’t really like insects.”

Luc did. He liked insects and arachnids and anything the creeped or crawled on the earth or through the air. At least, he had the last time she spent an extended period just being his mother. And _that_ had been quite some time ago.

Maybe something more conventional then. “What about any sea creatures? A crab? Do you have a crab?”

“Not like that toy, I don’t,” the merchant said. “I have a fish, though, one with built in joints so it can swim and such.”

“But it’s not like a wind-ey toy?” Veth asked.

The merchant shrugged. “It is, but it is made for water.” He put his hands together, palm to palm, and wiggled them back and forth. “Doesn’t work so well on land.”

Veth hesitated. She wanted to say _Fuck that, my son isn’t getting a water toy_ , but Luc loved the water. That’s what Yeza had told her. And she wanted to get him something personal, something she knew he would like and appreciate. She _had_ to let him know that she was thinking about him, that he wasn’t far from her mind at any given moment.

“Okay,” she said resignedly. “Okay, I’ll take one of the fish.”

“I’m sure Luc will love that,” Caleb murmured as the merchant went to retrieve the piece and package it for her. She floated down to the ground so she could walk to the money box to pay.

“I wish he didn’t,” she said, the words falling right out of her mouth. “I mean, it’s the _water_.” She shuddered, “That’s a terrible place to be.”

“I know,” Caleb said.

It wasn’t an _I know and I agree the water is terrible_ kind of a statement. It felt more personal than that.

A different kind of shudder threatened to rend down her spine. Maybe it had been too long since she’d been with Yeza, maybe that was it. It couldn’t be that her little, pointless, silly crush from so long ago just kept on growing. It couldn’t be that. She wouldn’t let it _be_ that.

 _Not pretty, not brave, not coordinated, not smart._ That’s what she’d thought of herself then, when her heart had first settled on this useless crusade. She knew better than that about most of the list these days, but there were parts of her that still thought about those things when Caleb was around. Especially when she wondered what he’d thought of her in that first meeting. She’d seen a handsome human man when he’d tipped his face into the moonlight. That had stuck with her their entire long journey together. What had he seen that day and had it stuck to him, too?

“But, you know, anything for the kid,” she said. “Yeza says he keeps an eye on him in the water, so that’s something at least.”

She waved around her family’s names like a stop sign that read _I am a wife. I am a mother. We can’t do this._ It put a dead halt to anything happening between them, she’d seen it happen before. Hells, she’d been on the receiving end of it. Caleb always brought their conversations back to her family these days; that was him holding up the same stop sign, the one that said _she is_ _a wife. She is a mother. We can’t do this._ Holding up those signs made it feel like they were a thousand miles away from each other even if they stood mere inches apart.

“Ja,” Caleb said. “He is a good man. He’ll keep Luc safe.”

 _I should be the one doing that_ , she thought, the pain of her absence piercing her heart once again. It always came up at the strangest of times, when she wasn’t ready for it. And the _shame_. What kind of mother was she, tromping around the world and leaving her husband and son all alone? What kind of wife was she for sleeping so close to someone she wanted and couldn’t have?

 _Nott._ Not either of those things at all, it felt like. Sometimes.

“That’d be one gold,” the merchant said, holding out a hand for the coin.

She was sure for the people of Zadash, one gold was an enormous cost for a toy, but Veth pulled the coin out of her pouch with barely a thought and floated up to pass it over, taking the small box and the toy inside in exchange. “Thank you,” she said, nodding her antlered head at the merchant before slowly lowering herself down. What a stupid waste of a perfectly good spell. She was almost annoyed about it, but decided she had enough on her mind already.

“Do you want to see if we can find some real books?” Veth asked, though she knew that if Caleb was good at anything, it was finding books. If they were here, it was likely he’d have already found them.

“All right,” he said, surprising her. He jerked his head to side. “Let’s go that way. I haven’t been around there.”

He led them to a set of stone stairs, leading down toward a small green plot of land that was dappled with lit up vendor stands and games. The market seemed to just go on and on forever, stretching through the Pentamarket like stars lighting up the night sky.

“I’m not sure there would be books down here,” Veth said, peering at the booths. They mostly looked like games, similar to what they’d played at the Harvest Close Festival. “I think these are games, for the most part.”

“Veth,” Caleb said, rounding on her and coming to a stop. There weren’t as many people down here, so no one ran into them, thankfully. “How are you? I feel like…like we haven’t spoken in a long time, just the two of us.”

 _Yup,_ Veth thought. _And there’s a reason why._ “I’m okay. As okay as I could be. But I’m not the one doing all of this stuff with the Cerberus Assembly and the Empire. I should be asking _you_ how you are.”

He hesitated for a moment and she swore she saw his hand move, like a phantom instinct from all the times he grabbed her hand to keep her close to him. But he just motioned to the side. “Come with me,” he said and she followed after him, empty handed.

She clutched the toy box with both hands. Not empty handed. Not empty handed.

He led her a small ways away, to a bench nestled between two booths. At this time of night, a shadowed corner like this was empty, so they sat besides each other, mostly hidden from the eyes of passersby.

She looked at him—it was hard to see, fuck this shit goddamnit she wished she never knew what it was like to see in the dark, it ruined her—and waited. His hands were clasped in his lap, his face pensive, eyes scrunched up in thought.

“You matter very much to me, you know that?” Caleb asked quietly.

“I do,” she replied. “And you matter very much to me.” It was a struggle to make that sound casual, just something a normal friend would feel. _Gods,_ it didn’t feel that way.

“I know that there has been some distance between us and I…uh…I…” He stared up at the sky, like it had the words for him. “I miss you,” he said and cleared his throat. “That is a selfish thing for me to say, for me to feel. I know that. But it’s true, I miss…” He trailed off.

“Yeah,” she said. She set the toy box down on the bench next to her, keeping one hand firmly on top of it. With the other, she gingerly reached out and grabbed Caleb’s hand. “I miss it too.”

They didn’t speak for a long time, nor did they move. His hand felt familiar and foreign all at once to her gentler, halfling fingers. She was used to touching him with claws, being soft lest she hurt him. Now there was no need for that because she was safer and he was stronger.

They stared up at the stars together and Veth thought back to the astronomy lessons he’d tried giving her their first time at sea. She knew some of the names of the stars and constellations now, because of him. It was a whole sky of possibility that he helped her understand, a beautiful black expanse that begged to be explored.

She kept one hand on the toy box, but she held on to Caleb just as tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by The Trouble with Wanting by Joy Williams. Seriously though, if you're a Widobrave and you haven't heard it yet. Please. Give it a listen, it's very much worth it.
> 
> Merry Critmas and happy holidays to everyone! Back to more fluff in general in chapter 3, I swear, but you just can't escape the angst with these two.


	3. Yasha and Beau

“—listen sometimes when we’re speaking and it’s like, what do you even mean? And I guess that’s how it is for him, too, but still I just don’t _get_ him sometimes. Like what was that? What was he trying to say?” Beau gestured insistently with her hands, caught up in the drama she was playing out for herself. “Is it my fault for not understanding or are we both just stupid?”

Yasha had been smiling through the rant because it wasn’t all that different from ones she’d heard before. It was well known that every now and then, Beau and Caleb just came to an arguing point where neither of them could figure out what the other meant.

But now her smile dropped and she shook her head. “Beau,” she said with a quiet firmness. “It’s not your fault. And you’re not stupid, neither of you are. You’re the smartest people in the group. I mean,” she tipped her head back and forth. “ _That_ might be your problem, really.”

“That we’re both smart?”

She crossed her index fingers, pointing opposite directions. “In different ways,” she said. “That’s all it is, I think, though I’m sure it is very aggravating.”

Beau glanced back at her, her cheeks flushing as she turned almost bashful. “How much do you guys even listen to our arguments?”

“I _mean_ ,” Yasha started, her voice doing that _thing_ where it went flat and weird and loud when she panicked. “The big ones? For sure, listen to the whole thing.”

“Well, usually the big ones have something to do with the possibility of us all dying, so I get that,” Beau nodded in understanding.

“Exactly,” Yasha said, eager for the agreement. “All the little ones? Those are more for the two of you anyway, I wouldn’t want to intrude on that.” _Good job, Yasha,_ she told herself. _That was both true and actually made sense, you’re doing it._

“I just—sometimes—I just want to like,” Beau reached out in front of her and mimed strangulation. A handful of passersby quickly moved out of their way.

“I get that,” Yasha said. They were walking past the food section of the market, Fjord and Jester a little ways away, though they didn’t seem to notice her or Beau. Yasha thought about waving or saying hi for a moment, but—nope, nope they were definitely making out and she definitely did not want to interrupt that.

She broke her gaze from them and settled on Beau instead. But the image of kissing was still there in her mind’s eye and before she could stop it, she felt _her_ face flush. And it was so easy to see it when she blushed, Zuala used to tease her all the time—

 _No._ She worked to shut that thought down quickly, before she had a chance to really _feel_ it. It’s what she did most of the time when she thought of Zuala in public, where someone might notice her reaction.

But this time, after a moment, Yasha took a deep breath and let herself finish the thought.

Zuala used to tease her all the time when she got flustered and red about some little thing. She’d liked seeing it, all that vulnerability from a warrior like Yasha. Because, to Zuala, Yasha had been a person and not just some killing machine. That had been the most precious thing to Yasha.

“Hey,” Beau’s voice was gentler than normal as she placed a hand on Yasha’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Yasha realized she had been quiet for a few beats too long, and fought to bring herself back to this moment. “Sorry,” she said, covering Beau’s hand with her own and giving it a squeeze out of instinct. “I’m okay. Just got caught up in a thought, that’s all.”

“A thought or…a memory?” Beau asked.

Ah, yes. That was her Beau, sharp as a knife and quick on her feet. “A memory,” Yasha confirmed.

“You want to talk about it?” Beau asked. She still hadn’t moved her hand so now Yasha was just holding it.

That was fine by her, Yasha decided, and swapped out hands as casually as she could so she could keep holding Beau’s. They were dating, after all, so it wasn’t weird. This was dating protocol, she was sure of it. Beau was also the first person she’d ever formally dated, so…maybe she shouldn’t be that sure of that.

“I…” Yasha searched for the words. Talking about Zuala hurt like a hot spoke driven into her chest—at least it had for a long time. Things felt a little different now, the good things and the bad things balancing each other far more than they had before. She was far from being wholly all right, but this certainly was a start. “I’m okay,” she said. And it _was_ true. The memory had hurt, but the grief of it would pass.

“I didn’t mean to bring up anything—”

“No, no! You didn’t,” Yasha rushed to reassure her. “It wasn’t even you, actually, I just saw Fjord and Jester going at it over there—” she flung an arm out toward the general direction she’d seen them, but they were nowhere to be seen now “—and it made me blush and then I was thinking about that and then I was thinking of something else and it just…snowballed.” She cleared her throat self-consciously, perfectly aware that she was probably bright red right now and that she’d given way more details than she’d needed to.

 _Dammit,_ she thought. _Right when you were doing so good._ Yasha. _Why are you like this??_

But Beau, blessed Beau, just kept nodding like that made perfect sense and wasn’t weird at all. “Yeah, no I get that. I’ve been there before.” She laughed, in that soft way that Yasha only ever heard when they were alone. She wondered if Beau was blushing as well, but in the cold, when she already appeared flushed as she could be, Yasha couldn’t tell. “Did you…did you say Fjord and Jester are making out somewhere?”

“Yeah,” she hiked her thumb back to where she’d spotted them. “Like, a little hidden, I think, but not that well.”

“I gotta admit, I didn’t have them pegged for a PDA couple,” Beau said, looking back where Yasha pointed and squinting as she tried to find them. “I kind of thought Fjord’s, like, _sensibility_ would overpower Jester’s….Jester.”

“I mean, it’s Jester,” Yasha said. “If anyone could overpower Fjord, it would be her.”

“Really she could overpower anyone, for that matter.”

“Oh yeah, for sure.”

They walked a few more paces before Beau spoke again. “Is it mean that I want to throw a snowball at them just a little bit?”

“Only if there’s ice in the snowball,” Yasha responded immediately. “Then it’s mean. If it’s a snow-snowball, then it’s fair game.”

Beau laughed again, still soft with her. “We should write this down in a rulebook. The Fucking with your Friends Rulebook.”

“We could be bestsellers if we did that, let’s just be honest.”

Mischief sparked in Beau’s eyes. “All right,” she said and walked toward the edge of the road where snow had been piled up after it was shoveled earlier that day. She grabbed a handful of snow off the pile, quickly and efficiently forming it into a compact ball. “Let’s….test out this rule, maybe. You know, it’s not mean to snowball your friends as long as it’s all made out of snow.”

“It’s still a little bit of a dick move,” Yasha said, even as she crouched and gathered together a snowball of her own. “But it’s not…mean.”

“No,” Beau shook her head, a laugh in her voice. “Not mean at all.”

They locked eyes, both of them clutching snowballs made with varying degrees of success and broke into idiotic giggles. This was the stupidest thing they could be doing right after those difficult few months they’d had, but it felt like they _needed_ it. They had to act like fools sometime, and on a cold night, drunk on starlight and laughter, it seemed like the best possible time.

Beau nodded back the way they’d come. “Let’s go fuck with our friends.”

Yasha smiled with her whole heart, her chest going all warm and cozy like she’d just taken a long swig of wine. Beau looked so beautiful in the sparkling lights, her blue eyes dazzling and bright, every inch of her close and dear to Yasha. It was hard to believe that a year ago Yasha had been wracked by guilt, burying her pain to try and make a life for herself at the circus. Now she had Beau and the rest of the Nein, her friends, her tribe, people she’d walk through hell with and for.

She had everyone except Molly. That was a weight she carried in her heart right next to Zuala. At least that weight wasn’t the only thing in her heart anymore. Nothing made her feel weightless the way Beau did. Nothing at all.

Together, they headed back toward the food stands, both of them looking to catch sight of their friends. They tended to stand out, so it wasn’t like they would be difficult to spot. Well, maybe for Yasha, but Beau was better at this sort of this, so Yasha let Beau take the lead.

The only problem was that they were openly carrying snowballs around a crowded market and some people seemed to notice their ammunition because a large berth began to form around them the further they walked. Yasha really hoped none of them were the same people who’d seen Beau pretend to strangle Caleb or someone was going to alert the authorities about a couple of troublemakers in the market.

“I feel like if we stay this conspicuous,” Yasha said to Beau in a stage whisper. There was no reason to whisper, but she felt she should anyway. “Then they’re going to notice us coming.”

“Ah, but this is Fjord we’re talking about,” Beau said as she surveyed the crowd for their friends. She switched the snowball to her other hand, absently wiping ice water off on her trousers. “He’s not perceptive enough to notice, and Jester is going to be way too into it to see us coming.”

That was, admittedly, a fair point.

Yasha was so distracted searching the crowd for Fjord and Jester that she didn’t notice Beau had stopped walking until she bumped into her. “Oh shit, sorry,” she said, placing a steadying hand on Beau’s shoulder.

Beau’s gaze was locked across the market, toward a stall selling intricate leather journals. Caleb was making his way toward it, his breath puffing steam into the air as he muttered something to himself. Beau’s hand clenched around the snowball.

“Beau…” Yasha started.

“Just once,” Beau said. “I just want to hit him one time and then I’ll let it go.”

“Okay, we both know you’re not going to let it go, but if it makes you feel better,” Yasha gestured toward Caleb. “Have at it.” She knew Beau didn’t need her permission, but she’d had a tone of asking, and this was probably the lesser mischief than pelting Fjord and Jester on the rare occasion they had time for themselves. Though Yasha had to admit it sounded like a lot of fun and she was hoping they’d still do that next.

Beau crept forward a few steps, getting in range with her quarry. Caleb must have been quite distracted because the rest of the market-goers were _not_ and pulled away from Beau as she passed them with clear intent, a viper about to strike. She had the calm, sinuous movements of a predator stalking its prey and everyone seemed to notice except for Caleb himself, who stood in front of the journal stall with his hands jammed into his pockets, breathing deeply.

Beau raised her hand, snowball ready to fly, when out of nowhere a three-and-a-half foot tall halfling flung herself out of the shadows toward Beau, shouting, “ _Boo!”_

Beau changed trajectory as if by instinct, slamming the snowball almost point-blank into Veth’s face. Veth’s arms were raised menacingly, sludgy snow dripping off her nose and splattered against her antlers.

“You bitch,” Beau said. “You fucking bitch, what was that and _why?”_

Calmly, Veth straightened and flicked what remained of the snow off her face. She pointed at Beau. “Worth it,” she said.

“What?” Beau asked, brow furrowed, wild with confusion.

Veth smiled and nodded. “Worth it,” she repeated.She wiped her face on the sleeve of her dress and looked between the two of them. “You guys are cute. Keep doing what you’re doing.” And with that, Veth began to walk away as if nothing was amiss.

Beau’s hand snaked out and caught hold of Veth’s hood. “No, no, no, you’re not going anywhere after that, not until you apologize.”

“I’m not apologizing for having fun!” Veth said while Beau tried to wrestle her into a headlock. Yasha had the distinct feeling that they were going to get thrown out of this market if the two of them continued, but they were so evenly matched that she couldn’t stop watching the chaos as it unfolded in front of her.

“It’s not _fun_ to sneak up on your _friends,”_ Beau grumbled as Veth slipped out of grip.

“ _Well,”_ Yasha said and raised an eyebrow at Beau, her tone just a bit haughty. “It’s not _mean_. But I think it is probably pretty fun.”

Beau looked at her and Yasha saw a brief flash of heat in her eyes before she emphatically said, “Fuck!” And continued trying to grab onto Veth.

“What are they doing?” Caleb had wandered over to the spectacle—there was ring around the two of them where others had fled the area—and came up beside Yasha. His eyes were sad, trouble built up in the tense line of his shoulders. It wasn’t an abnormal thing to see in Caleb, but he’d been in somewhat better spirits when she’d seen him last. She wondered what had changed, though she knew from experience that just about anything could send someone reeling back into a dark place they didn’t intent or want to go.

“Beau was trying to sneak up on you, but Veth snuck up on her,” Yasha explained. “I think now they’re trying to kill each other.”

“Should be we intervene?”

Yasha’s shrugged. “They’ll tire themselves out eventually.”

“Oh,” Caleb pointed at the snowball in her hand. “Are you going to do anything with that?”

 _Oh no, this is one of those moments,_ Yasha thought. _What’s the protocol here? Do I hit him in the face with it because that is what Beau wanted to do or do I let him take it and hit her with it? If I give it to him am I betraying my girlfriend? Fuck, Yasha, is Beau your_ girlfriend _now?_

She was so frozen by the indecision that the moment she saw a blue tiefling and a half-orc approach the chaos, she flung the snowball in their general direction.

Although by accident, it hit Fjord square in the face. He rocked back on his heels, dumbfounded and Yasha felt a mix of anxiety and surprising… _giddiness_ come alive inside of her.

Jester’s mouth dropped open at the attack, but she quickly crouched to form her own snowballs. That was when Yasha figured it was good plan to run.

She darted around Beau and Veth, still grappling with each other up until Jester’s attack hit them both, Yasha narrowly ducking down to avoid it. And that was really all it took for the six of them to devolve into sudden, enthusiastic attacks on each others, snow flying everywhere, market goers either shying away or getting drawn in by the madness. Yasha got hit by errant snowballs from her friends and from others as they joined their own frays.

She was laughing at the top of her lungs and trying to hit Caleb in the face—for Beau—when she slipped on a patch of ice. Instinctively she reached out for something to steady herself against, and grabbed onto Beau’s shoulder again. Only this time, it wasn’t so easy to keep herself upright and she managed to throw Beau off balance too. Yasha’s feet finally went out from under her and she hit the ground hard, but she was ready when Beau fell too, throwing out an arm without thought to make sure Beau didn’t hit her head on the cobblestones.

Freezing cold and breathless from laughter, she leaned over Beau. “Are you okay?” She said between gasps of air, still laughing at this ridiculous moment.

Beau nodded, smiling broadly up at her. “Yeah, no, yeah I’m good. I’m great, actually.”

“I’m glad,” Yasha said, resting her forehead against Beau’s.

Gods, this felt _good._ All of it: her friends, the ache in her belly from laughing so hard, the feel of Beau beneath her, hot breath against Yasha’s cheek. Beau’s gravelly, humorous voice as she whispered something unintelligible to Yasha. It didn’t matter what she was saying; Yasha knew exactly what she meant.

There was no hesitation when she kissed her, no second guessing, no awkwardness or worry. She captured Beau’s mouth with all the heat and fierceness and love she had set aside for so long, one arm curled around Beau’s head, the other grasping her waist.

“W-wow,” Beau managed when Yasha finally pulled away.

“You’re so beautiful, Beau,” Yasha said, which wasn’t an answer but it was all she could think to say.

“So are you,” Beau said, and reached up, drawing Yasha back to her.

“Awwwwww,” Yasha distantly heard in Jester’s high-pitched squeak.

“ _Oh_ -kay,” Fjord said. “Maybe we should—I mean, right here? Should we—should we go?”

They broke apart and shared a glance of long-suffering understanding before Yasha pushed herself to her feet and extended a hand for Beau.

Caleb let out one low whistle. “Whoo-wee,” he said, the word sounding particularly foreign in his accent. “Good for you two.”

“I will fucking fight you, man,” Beau threatened, taking a step toward him.

But he only smiled and put his hands back in his pockets. “You’ve got better things to do,” he said with a head-nod toward Yasha before walking off, this time toward the food stands.

After a moment, Veth saluted to Beau. “Seconded,” she said and followed after Caleb.

“So, Captain,” Beau said, clapping Fjord on the shoulder. “Want to go get some mulled wine with us? Hang out? Chill?”

“No thank you,” Fjord said immediately, primly removing Beau’s hand from his shoulder. “I think we’re just fine on our own.”

“Oh, but then it would be like a double date!” Jester exclaimed, hands clasped together with excitement.

Fjord looked at her with such pained resignation that Yasha almost laughed out loud.

“It’s all right,” Yasha said. She came up beside Beau and wrapped her arm around her waist. “We’ll call a rain check on the double date, yeah? I think this is good for now.”

Fjord deflated in relief, but Jester’s eyes sparkled. “Okay,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at them. “Enjoy yourselves, you two.”

“We will,” Yasha replied. She could practically feel the heat of Beau’s blush.

Jester and Fjord wandered off, leaving the two of them alone again. Yasha busied herself with brushing snow off of Beau clothes and out of her hair. They both were practically covered it in by then, and it was only making a chilly night chillier.

“Maybe that’s not a bad idea,” Beau said. “Mulled wine. Let’s go get some mulled wine.”

“Okay,” Yasha said. She didn’t care what they did so long as they were together.

Beau seemed to sense that if the shy smile creeping across her face was anything to go by.

“Oh, but before that,” Yasha said. She waited until Beau looked up at her and then kissed her again, just because she wanted to and because she _could_.

After a long moment, she broke the kiss, keeping her forehead pressed against Beau’s, their noses touching. “Let’s go get some mulled wine,” she murmured.

Beau blew out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

As they started off, Beau raised her head to look around the market, her brows furrowed.

“What is it?” Yasha asked, looking as well even though she had no idea what she was looking for.

Beau cocked her head, thinking hard. “Where the hell is Caduceus?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took forever.
> 
> I had hoped to get this done sooner, but alas it now resides within the 'bracket' of the holiday season. Regardless, hope you enjoy!


	4. Caduceus Clay

Caduceus Clay loved many things in this world. He was a being carved from love and considered himself to be defined by it, the most potent love he gave being a kind word, a piece of wisdom, and warm shoulder for others to cry on. It was something he was proud of, the strength of his own compassion, something he had learned from his parents and they had learned from theirs.

His friends were decidedly different.

Fjord and Jester had wandered away first, which wasn’t surprising. He had been waiting for them to get to this point for a long while, though neither had seen it coming. Then Beau and Yasha had split off, which was for the best because things were never easy when Beau and Caleb got heated about something. That had left only Veth and Caleb and, well, those two had a lot they needed to discuss. He thought it pertinent to leave them to it, but Veth practically sprinted away before he could.

 _Huh_ , he’d thought to himself. _That’s interesting._

He wasn’t quite sure what was happening with them, though he did have thoughts. Maybe a couple of opinions. Caduceus almost _always_ had opinions. He kept them all his little mental log of how everyone was doing, who needed a push, what needed to come next so he could see them on the right path.

What they needed most that day, he sensed, was some time to talk to each other and figure things out themselves.

It was difficult for him, to separate himself from their progress like that. It was a little shameful how invested he was in this group, beyond providing guidance for them. More and more he was letting himself be integrated in a way he hadn’t before. It was easier to hold them at arms length, to think of them as clients. That’s how he’d handled just about all interactions outside his family as long as he could remember. And yet, he had flashes sometimes where he saw glimpses of his family in them and he became less and less sure if he was remembering his siblings or if he was simply growing to consider the Nein family as well.

He hummed to himself absently as he walked from stall to stall, ignoring that question entirely. It was irrelevant. He could coast on what they had for a long, long time before he had to confront why he was still with them even though the Blooming Grove was saved and his blood family was hale and whole once more.

“Hi,” he said to a crafter, before he bought a lovely wooden ornament shaped like a boat.

“Hey, how are you?” He asked at a bookseller that had taken a long while for him to find, before purchasing a pile of books, some of them with those half-naked people covers that Jester and Caleb both liked.

“Hi there,” he said before picking up a set of fine tinker’s tools and a piece of clockwork.

“Long day, huh?” He commiserated with a different bookseller as he picked up a couple of old, rare history books.

“Interesting night?” He asked a different crafter as he bought a porcelain ornament in the shape of an angel.

The crafter shook his head. “There were some crazy people out there, started a big snow fight! I thought for sure they’d get my stand, but I’m glad they didn’t.” He gestured at the stock behind him. “This stuff is _fragile.”_

“Yeah,” Caduceus said, understanding immediately what had gone down. “That would have been a terrible thing.” He slid his payment to the man, including two extra gold coins.

“Hey,” the man said. “This is too much, you’ve gotta take this back—”

“Keep it,” Caduceus said, raising a hand against his protests. “Trust me, just…keep it.”

At the end of it all, Caduceus didn’t even understand how he came to be in possession of so many things. The bags hung heavy off his arms, but it wasn’t a bad a kind of heavy. It made him feel warm and full.

He wandered over toward the remnants of the snow fight, wondering where they could have gone after something like that. It was still a complete mess, though it was snowing and fresh snow had begun to fill in craters where wild footsteps and rabid handfuls of snow had been ripped into it.

“Caduceus!”

It was Jester’s voice he heard first, high and happy and remarkably more normal than it had sounded for some time now. He turned his head and saw his friends standing huddled in the snow, small cups of hot wine or hot chocolate held between their hands.

He smiled and it was both immediate and genuine. “Hey,” he said, making his way toward them.

“We looked everywhere for you, where did you go?” Jester asked as he approached. She was cuddled up beneath Fjord’s arm, likely less because she was cold and more likely for the opportunity to snuggle that the cold presented.

He lifted his arms, laden with presents. “I went shopping.”

“You want a hot chocolate, Cad?” Beau asked as she finished off her own drink. “I’ll go get you some while I get a refill.”

“Oh, that’d be great,” he said to Beau. She dropped Yasha’s hand and headed back to a food stall.

“Were you shopping for your family?” Caleb asked.

Caduceus looked down at his purchases and up at the people he was with. They were so different than they had been when he’d met them, so much stronger and happier and kinder. His chest swelled with pride for them and maybe also for the simple joy of being with them here on this cold night, warming their hands on hot drinks and their hearts on lively conversation.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the last of it!
> 
> Still wish I'd gotten it out on time, but I'm pretty happy with it all anyway.
> 
> Happy (belated) Winter's Crest, y'all! I hope you had a nice one, even if it wasn't a perfect one.


End file.
